blocked

Is my nose. Well, no. I don't know why I just wrote that. It's actually my mind. Perhaps it's the exhilaration of writing in another blog, which is actually someone else's. It's almost like writing personal emails from someone else's email account, but still using my own name. It's like the pleasure of having access of someone else's private information, which is often by surreptitious means, but this one's legit so it's not as much fun (c'mon admit it, reading other people's mail is fun. Or I'm just a closet voyeur) but it still feels kind of weird. Because when it's a surreptitious act, you at least pretend that you haven't done it - even to yourself, sometimes. But when it's legit, I guess you just don't know what to feel, and can't process what you're feeling.

And after taking pot shots at people who write just for the sake of writing, or who just write descriptions without interpretive comments, or even just about themselves I'm not doing such a great job myself. And I am pretty much just writing about myself. Does that make me a closet hypocrit? Well, not closet anymore since this is a public forum.

If you've read Joruri Khobor at all, you'll know that Tokai (i.e. I) was evacuated. Thank you, Shakib Bhai for providing me with temporary shelter. Much obliged, I am. Because there are tons of shredded paper on the streets, especially near Hawa Bhobon, I am seriously busy trying to collect all I can (read hoard), but I will need a refuge at the end of the day and this porch will work very well, thank you. Hopefully, even better than the garbage bin in which I used to live. Because Tokais don't sign contracts, no deals have been signed. So I'm here till I have to evacuate again.